Strange Encounter
by Valerie J
Summary: When a strange woman falls out of the sky without being harmed, Mulder and Scully are sent to investigate. X Men X Files crossover.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

FBI agent Dana Scully stepped out of her car with a familiar feeling of trepidation. She'd heard it in her partner's voice when he called. That... tone, that sense of suppressed excitement. Fox Mulder was an exceptionally capable investigator, due in large part to his avid curiosity and his inability to let his questions remain unanswered. Unfortunately, he had chosen an area of investigation that covered such things as UFO's, paranormal activities and unexplained phenomena of just about any variety. The large majority of it turned out to be bunk, to Dana's immense relief. But she had seen enough now, in her years as Mulder's partner, that she had begun to suspect that the science she had always had such faith in was, perhaps, a bit more limited than she had thought.

The focus of activity centered on an area approximately thirty feet across that was cordoned off with yellow tape. People moved around the area in a familiar, chaotic pattern. Police, fire department, and other investigators milled about, intent on their own particular errands. Dana searched through them until she spied Mulder standing silently in the midst of the furor. Holding up her badge for the nearest police officer, Dana went to join him.

She found herself standing beside Mulder on the lip of a sizable crater in an area that had, until just recently, been part of a soybean field. Two men were down in the crater itself, taking readings with some sort of sensing equipment. Dana estimated the depth of the crater at six or seven feet, and the diameter at approximately twenty.

"What does this look like to you?" Mulder asked her without looking up or otherwise acknowledging her arrival. It was one of his lesser annoying habits, which Dana had long ago learned to ignore.

She tucked a wayward lock of hair back behind her ear as she looked once more at the crater. "It looks like an impact crater from a small airplane," she answered. "I heard a local news report on the radio on my way in." Not that she believed the report, of course. "I don't see any wreckage." As far as she could tell, the crater and the surrounding area was barren of anything that might have once been an airplane.

"There isn't any," Mulder agreed. Finally, he turned away from his study of the crater and looked at her.

"Don't tell me this was a meteor strike."

He smiled, and Dana knew that the interesting part was coming. "Nope. At least, I doubt it." His enigmatic smile faded. "They found a woman in the bottom of that." He pointed to the crater. "Ned Dawson, the farmer who owns this field says he heard something that sounded like an explosion. When he got there, he discovered this crater-- still smoking-- and the woman lying naked at the bottom. He said he would have gone down to look more closely, but it was too hot. So he went back to his house and called the fire department."

Dana glanced skyward. There were cases of people falling out of airplanes, or parachuters whose chutes failed, but the impact sites weren't nearly as dramatic as this one. Of course, she could simply have fallen from a much higher altitude.

"Have any incidents been reported by passenger aircraft flying over this area?" she asked.

"No. And this woman didn't fall out of an airplane." As always, Mulder stated his opinion with complete confidence.

"How do you know?"

He grinned and leaned closer. "Because she's still alive, Scully."

Dana knew her expression gave her away, but she refused to fall into his trap and ask the obvious. So instead, she asked, "So why are we here? I'll admit it's amazing that someone survived this kind of fall, but how does this involve the X-Files?"

"A couple of things, actually." Mulder turned and began walking away from the crater lip. Dana paced him. "The first is that, not only is she alive, but this woman is apparently completely unharmed."

"What?"

"Unharmed. As in 'not a scratch on her'. No burn marks either."

Dana didn't say anything. Her instincts told her that that was impossible, but she would reserve judgment until she had seen for herself.

"Where was she taken?"

They reached Dana's car. "Providence General. It's about forty miles from here, but it's the closest hospital."

Dana opened the driver's side door, but didn't get in. "So what's the second thing that makes this an X-File?" she asked, almost dreading the answer.

Mulder crossed his arms and draped them over the top of her open door. "The firemen that went down into the crater to see if she was alive... they both collapsed the moment they touched her."

"They collapsed?"

He nodded. "Uh huh. Apparently, anyone who touches her skin just... drops. They had to wrap her up like a mummy to move her."

Dana couldn't find an immediate explanation for that one. She would have to do some research. "Are they all right? The firemen?"

"They seem to be. They both woke up after about an hour. Said it felt like their minds were being sucked out." He gave her a little-boy grin. "Weird, huh."

Dana bit back her reply. Mulder was baiting her, teasing her gently for her rigid beliefs in science and rationality. She climbed into her car. Perhaps she could find some kind of reasonable explanation for all of this once she examined the woman and talked to those firemen. That was certainly the most logical place to start.

#-#-#-#

Dana opened the hospital room door to a familiar scene. She guessed that the man standing beside the single bed was Dr. Cowin, who was listed as the doctor assigned to the Jane Doe's case. He was fairly unexceptional-looking man in his mid-fifties, but Dana immediately sensed his competence. He glanced up as the door opened.

"Dr. Cowin?"

"Yes?" He paused in the midst of scribbling a note into the woman's chart.

"I'm Agent Dana Scully, with the FBI." Dana advanced and extended her hand. Dr. Cowin shook it. Like most physicians Dana had met, his grip was firm and cool. "I'm also a medical doctor."

His eyebrows rose a fraction, but Dana was used to that. "Is this the Jane Doe?" She moved to the bedside. Her first impression of the woman was of a tremendous tumble of auburn hair. It spilled across the pillow in waves. Oddly, it had a white stripe bleached down the center. And whoever had done it had done a good job, Dana thought absently. She couldn't see any signs of dark roots. Instinctively, she moved to brush away a strand of white hair that had fallen across the woman's nose.

"Ah-ah." A strong hand caught her wrist, and she turned in surprise to Dr. Cowin. He shrugged minusculely and released her. "You have to wear gloves."

Dana turned to look more closely at the woman. She was obviously young, with a sweet face and an air of perpetual innocence. She didn't _look_ threatening.

"Then you've seen the effect of touching her skin?" Dana asked as she drew on a pair of sterile gloves. She glanced at Dr. Cowin, who nodded and handed the woman's chart to her.

"Yes. One of the nurses touched her and then simply... collapsed. I was here, so I was able to examine her almost immediately. I couldn't find any external indications of trauma." He shrugged. "Her vitals remained strong, pulse regular, but her EEG was almost nonexistent. It has been growing steadily stronger since then, so I'm hoping that she'll recover like the others."

"Then the firemen that were brought in have recovered completely?"

"As far as I can tell."

Dana scanned the chart, which documented things she was already aware of. Until she hit a scrawled note that said "Unable to administer IV or take blood samples for analysis."

She looked up at Dr. Cowin, who seemed to be waiting for her question. "Why couldn't you administer the IV or draw blood?"

He drew the thin hospital gown aside, exposing part of the woman's abdomen. "Maybe you can tell me, Doctor," he said. Then he turned to the small counter in the corner of the room, and returned with a large pair of surgical scissors. Dana watched curiously, unable to immediately fathom what he was doing. Then, to her horror, he turned the scissors point down and stabbed the woman viciously. Dana's cry of warning was only halfway up her throat when the scissors _bounced_ off of the woman's skin. Dana looked up at Dr. Cowin, speechless. Then she tentatively reached down to touch the woman's skin. Even through the rubber gloves, it was warm, smooth, and gave ever-so-slightly under a gentle pressure from her fingertips.

"I don't understand." It was a rhetorical statement, but Dr. Cowin seemed eager to have someone to talk to about his patient.

"I've scheduled a complete set of tests, including full X-rays and CAT scan. But honestly, I've never seen anything like this. I've never _heard_ of anything like this."

Dana struggled to recover her poise. "Do you have any explanation for her continued unconsciousness?"

Dr. Cowin smiled. "Yes. She has a concussion."

#-#-#-#

Dana chewed on her lip, completely vexed. She stood in front of a long row of X-rays, staring at yet another puzzle. Dr. Cowin was with her, and he, too, seemed non-plussed. As far as Dana could tell, this Jane Doe was completely normal. Her X-rays were normal. Her CAT scan was normal for a patient with a concussion. Her EKG was normal. Everything they'd been able to do—every non-invasive test—had come back completely normal. And so Dana was left with no probable or even possible explanation of how this completely normal woman had fallen far enough to cause that crater and not been seriously injured.

"There's literally nothing we can do except wait for her to wake up," concluded Dr. Cowin.

Dana nodded. "Would you excuse me?" she asked and then stepped out of the room. Once in the hall, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Mulder's number. He answered almost immediately.

"So what did you find out?" he asked without preamble.

"You first," Dana countered. "Is there any proof that this woman actually caused that crater? Could she have been put there after the fact?"

She could hear Mulder's expression in his voice. "Anything's possible, Scully. But there's no evidence of any other source for the crater. Now it _could_ have been a meteorite that struck and vaporized on impact, but that doesn't explain how the woman got there or why she wasn't burned by the hot ground. There are volcanic crystals here, Scully. Tiny pieces of dirt that were fused by the force of the collision."

Dana sighed to herself. She always hated it when the facts were such that they would _add_ fuel to Mulder's fire. But the facts were exactly that, and she couldn't cover them up because she didn't like the picture of the world they presented. "Well, I think I've found some support for the theory that she made that crater by falling into that farmer's field."

"Really?" He sounded truly surprised. "And here I was about to discard it. Did you know that, to generate enough force to make this crater, Jane would have had to have fallen at a speed of approximately twenty-two hundred feet per second? That's well beyond terminal velocity."

Dana couldn't help her incredulous reaction. "Mulder, that's approximately Mach Two." She paused, thinking about Dr. Cowin's demonstration. "But it's possible she might have survived something like that." Mulder was silent, so she continued, "We've been completely unable to penetrate her epidermis."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that the needles break. The scalpel slides off. Dr. Cowin even stabbed her with a pair of scissors without effect." Dana was getting breathless. "It's like she's made out of steel. But every X-ray and scan indicates that she's just ordinary flesh and bones like the rest of us."

There was silence on the other end of the connection for several moments. "I'd like to see this," he finally said. The phone went dead with a click, and Dana folded it up and slid it back into her pocket. As far as she could remember, Mulder had never yet used the words "good-bye" in a phone conversation.

Dr. Cowin had just stepped out of the viewing room and was walking down the hallway. Dana jogged to catch up. Together, they rounded a last corner just in time to see four men in dark suits wheeling the Jane Doe out of her room on a gurney. A giant hand clenched around Dana's stomach. She recognized government agents when she saw them.

"Wait! Stop!" she called and broke into a run, pulling out her badge. A fifth man, who was following the gurney intercepted her.

"Where are you taking her?!" Dana demanded. Over his shoulder, she could see the gurney disappearing around a corner. "Who are you?!"

The man withdrew a badge from his inside coat pocket and handed it to her. Dana saw the large NSA at the top of the ID card immediately. It looked real enough, and Dana suspected that it was.

"Agent Scully, this case is no longer under FBI jurisdiction," he told her in that flat, government-man voice. Then he turned and walked swiftly after his companions. Dana threw Dr. Cowin a helpless glance and then trotted after the agent, feeling somewhat like a puppy. She pushed through the outer doors in time to see them finish loading Jane into the back of a local ambulance. Then, with swift precision, three of them climbed into the ambulance and two into a nearby sedan. Both vehicles pulled away.

Dana felt a kind of helpless anger boiling inside her. But all she could actually think of was that now Mulder would never stop going on about government conspiracies.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Fox Mulder dropped his pencil onto the desktop in a gesture of frustration and then leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. What did people take them for? Complete idiots? He and Scully had spent the last week chasing down a group of fake Satanists that had turned out to be frat boys out on a lark. There was so much _important_ work to be doing, and Skinner was sending them out on garbage like this. Not that it was the A.D.'s fault, really. Deep in his heart, Mulder knew he couldn't blame the man. More than likely, the idiot assignment was a way to keep them out of town and unable to poke their noses any further into that Jane Doe thing. Skinner would never show it, but he did care what happened to his two most renegade agents.

The door opened and Dana Scully walked in. She was carrying a stack of books and manila folders in one arm and a bag of bagels in the other.

"I brought breakfast," she said, setting the bag down on his desk.

"Thanks." Mulder tried not to grab the bag. He was starving. He had occasionally taken to wondering what would happen to him if Dana weren't there to feed him when he got involved in something. But that led to several paths of thought that he'd rather not travel down, so he pushed the question away. He sniffed the top of the bag, smiling. The bagels were still warm, and smelled of good things.

"Did you find out anything new?" he asked through a mouthful.

Dana set the stack down on her desk with apparent relief, and picked up the topmost book. The title was indecipherable, and Mulder concluded that it must be a medical text.

"Not really," she answered. "There have been a number of incidents of people surviving collisions, plane crashes, jumping off of building, et cetera over the years, but not one of them evidenced characteristics similar to Jane's. Most of them suffered severe, often crippling, injury. Most of those who survived with little or no injury were inside some kind of vehicle—namely an airplane—and almost all were children." She settled in her chair and tossed the book back onto the desk.

"Well, I put in a call to the experts—" Mulder began.

"Oh? And what did Frohicke and company have to say?" Dana's opinion of those three was significantly lower than Mulder's. Of course, the fact that they all tended to act like adolescents around her didn't help.

"Not much." Mulder reached for a second bagel. "He wouldn't admit it, but I think they're baffled."

Dana's reply was cut off by a knock at the door. They exchanged glances. Visitors to their dank corner of the basement were rare.

"Come in," Mulder called.

The door opened onto what Mulder would have to call a startling sight. The woman in the doorway stood a full six feet in height, which was unusual enough. She was of African-American descent, with a very rich though not particularly dark hue to her skin. But her hair was white. Not white-blond or bleached. It was simply white. And cut oddly in a sort of shoulder-length bob, except for two waist-length streamers at either side of her face. She surveyed the room from the doorway, and Mulder had the feeling that she was evaluating everything she saw.

Eventually, he found his voice. "Can we help you?"

She stepped into the room, and her gaze came to rest on him. "Are you Agents Mulder and Scully?" She glanced briefly at Dana.

"Yes."

"And you are?" Dana wisely did not rise from her chair. Their visitor would have towered over her.

The woman's expression didn't change. "A friend of the woman you found in Iowa," she replied.

Mulder sat up abruptly. "How did you find us?"

"You are listed as the agents of record." She glanced around at the small room. "And this is your office." Her tone implied that it was perfectly normal for anyone to look up the agent of record on an active case and then waltz into the FBI building and up to the agents' door. He was beginning to be very curious about how she had gotten past security. She certainly didn't have an appointment with them. And she wasn't wearing a visitor badge.

"What's your name?" Mulder asked. He had the feeling that he was going to have to stay on the offensive with this one, or she would walk right over him. She radiated a sort of regal arrogance.

"Ororo Munroe." She crossed to his desk and held out her hand. Mulder rose to shake it.

"Fox Mulder. This is Dana Scully." He indicated his partner. The woman—Ororo—nodded in greeting. She seemed to have warmed up a tad at the exchange of names. But her expression remained solemn as she turned back to Mulder.

"How is she?" She glanced between himself and Dana. "Was she badly injured?"

Scully pursed her lips in that way she had when she was deliberately not saying the first thing that came to mind. Mulder always hated to see that expression. Dana was always so full of surprises when she spoke her mind. "No," she answered. "She did have a concussion and was still unconscious when I examined her, but that was the only sign of injury."

Ororo's stiff posture relaxed slightly.

"What happened to her?" Mulder had to ask the question. He was fairly certain this enigmatic woman wouldn't tell him anything useful, but it never hurt to ask.

Ororo considered the question. "She was involved in a... midair collision." She took a breath, changing subjects. "Now, may I see her? Where is she?"

Mulder and Scully exchanged glances. "We don't know," he finally admitted.

"What do you mean?" Ororo's eyes narrowed, and Mulder sensed a sudden menace from her. It was unintentional, he was certain, but he had the impression that she did not feel even the least bit threatened by either of them.

"He means that another agency took jurisdiction over your friend's case and had her moved to a different facility for care. We don't know where that is." Dana drummed her fingernails lightly on her desktop.

"Is that true?" Ororo seemed to be asking the question to the air.

"It is," said a new voice, and Mulder whirled, drawing his weapon. He found himself staring down the barrel at an Asian woman who seemed to simply step out of the shadows in the back corner of the office. She noted the two weapons aimed at her with cool indifference, and looked to Ororo. It was at about that point that Mulder noticed that her hair was purple.

"Who does your hair?" he cracked.

"Mulder!" He could hear the anger in Scully's voice. Then she turned to the purple-haired woman. "How did you get in here?" she demanded.

The woman ignored her entirely. She told Ororo, "They do not know where Rogue is. NSA agents took her from the hospital. They have not been able to locate her."

Mulder tried not to let his surprise show. This lady knew an awful lot for someone he'd never met. But at least now he had a name for their Jane Doe. He lowered his gun, feeling like it was fairly useless to keep it aimed at two people who truly didn't seem to care. Plus, they weren't behaving in a threatening manner. After a moment, Dana copied him.

Ororo turned to them. "Then I am sorry to have disturbed you." She nodded to them, making it seem like a bow. "We will make inquiries elsewhere." And with that, she turned, and the two of them left the room. The Asian woman closed the door behind her with a soft click.

Unable to help himself, Mulder jumped up and went to the door, throwing it open. As he had suspected, the corridor was empty in both directions.

#-#-#-#

Mulder glanced quickly at Dana as he turned the knob on A.D. Skinner's door. She only stared back at him, expression neutral, and Mulder knew that she was expecting the worst. As was he. Standing in front of this door always reminded him of one of his favorite short stories, and he invariably found himself placing a silent wager as to whether it would be the lady or the tiger that he met on the far side.

He opened the door and they both walked in. There were three men in the room, and Mulder's stomach immediately tied itself into a knot. One was Skinner, looking uncomfortable as always. The second was a man Mulder didn't recognize. But he fit the mold of government-trained slime. The third man sat some distance behind the other two, his features hidden in shadows despite the fact that he sat right next to a table lamp. Cigarette smoke drifted lazily above the lampshade. Mulder knew no name for him, even now. In his own mind, he had dubbed him "Cancer Man". He was the one person in the world that Mulder truly hated.

"You wanted to see us, sir?" Mulder asked the A.D. as they approached the table at which he and the unknown man sat.

In response, Skinner reached into the open briefcase that sat before him and pulled out an 8x10 inch photograph. He slid it across the table toward the two agents.

"Who is she?" Skinner sounded angry, but Mulder knew better. It was his only means of conveying a warning to them-- that they were on very dangerous ground and should walk carefully.

Mulder picked up the photo and studied it, tilting it to allow Scully to see it as well. It was a security camera photo, fuzzy and gray. But the woman was unmistakable. The contrast of her dark skin and white hair gave her away, no matter how poor the quality of the picture. Mulder guessed that the photo had come from one of their own building security cameras. He set the photo back down on the table.

"She claimed to know the woman who crash landed outside of Paine, Iowa eleven days ago."

The man Mulder didn't know shifted ever so slightly. "How did you meet her?"

Mulder met his stare. His kind no longer scared him. "She came to our office yesterday afternoon, asking about the Jane Doe."

"What did she want to know?"

Mulder shrugged. "Basically, the same things I'd like to know: Where is she, and what kind of condition is she in?"

The man's lips thinned and Mulder knew he'd succeeded in annoying him. But he mastered it and replied, "That is not your concern, Agent Mulder."

Mulder's temper flared. "So whose concern is it?"

Skinner glared at him and Mulder subsided. He wouldn't push too hard when the flak would most likely hit the A.D.

"Did she give you a name?" Skinner asked.

Mulder nodded. "Ororo Munroe." The mystery man scribbled on a white tablet.

"Do you have any plans to meet her again?" he asked.

"No." Although it was the truth, he doubted that the mystery man would believe him.

The mystery man stared at him in quiet menace. "This woman spent a considerable amount of time inside the FBI building, yet this is the only picture we were able to obtain of her. Do you know why that is, Agent Mulder?"

"Maybe she's shy."

The man considered Mulder and Scully for several moments, and then focused his attention solely on Dana. "Is there anything else, Agent Scully?"

Dana stared at him in silence. Mulder knew she was debating how likely it was that this was a trick question. A trap. Dana had been assigned to the X-Files primarily as a spy, because she was both honest and a true disciple of science. And though Mulder knew she would never betray him personally, she also would not hide things from their superiors. Usually. It was that honesty that had allowed her to lie to them on one or two extremely important occasions and be believed.

"There was another woman," she finally answered. Mulder had the supreme satisfaction of seeing the mystery man twitch in surprise. He leaned forward in his chair.

"Tell me about her."

Dana shrugged. "There's not much to tell. She didn't give a name."

"What does she look like?"

Dana fought down a smile. "She is approximately five foot eight and, I would estimate, weighs about 125 pounds. She is of Asian descent, probably Japanese." Dana paused. "From her accent, I would guess that she is a British national."

The mystery man's gaze narrowed suspiciously. "There's something you've left out."

Dana nodded and cleared her throat. "Yes. Her hair is purple."

"Purple?" That was Skinner.

"Yes, sir."

Mulder hid his grin. Coming from Scully, they had to accept that. No matter how silly it sounded to them.

"Is that all?" Skinner split his gaze between the two of them.

Dana nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Then you're dismissed."

Mulder left quickly, with Dana right on his heels. Now, more than ever, he was determined to find out what had happened to their Jane Doe-- to this "Rogue"-- who had even the Cancer Man in a tizzy. The only problem, he reflected, was that he didn't have the faintest idea where to start.

#-#-#-#

Fox Mulder drained the last of his drink and contemplated the glass. He was slouched on the black sofa that was, by far, the nicest piece of furniture in his apartment's living room. It was also the most comfortable, which was an important thing to the slightly insomniac federal agent. Mulder closed his eyes for a moment and leaned his head back. He was tired, but his mind refused to stop whirling.

A car passed by outside, its tires hissing against the wet pavement. Mulder opened his eyes and glanced involuntarily toward the window. The two strips of masking tape he'd put there earlier remained unchanged, a shadowy "X" backlit by the desk lamp. The only man Mulder knew who might respond to that signal was dead, and he had no idea if there might be another out there. It was the only thing he could think of, but a little voice inside him kept telling him that he'd have just as much luck using a batsignal from the rooftop.

A soft knock on the door startled him out of a light doze. Groggily Mulder got to his feet and walked to the door, drawing his gun. He was mostly awake by the time he got there. He peered through the peephole and, to his surprise, into the distorted image of Ororo Munroe's face.

She nodded in greeting when he opened the door. "Agent Mulder."

Mulder ran a hand through his hair, suddenly aware of how unkempt he probably looked. She was definitely the kind you wanted to impress. "Won't you come in?" he asked, and stepped aside. He could at least be polite.

Ororo walked into his living room as if she owned it. Her blue eyes scanned the entirety, eventually coming to rest on the "X" taped to the window. Then she turned to face him.

"Why did you want to see me?" she asked.

Baffled, Mulder could only stare at her for a moment. "Excuse me?"

She gestured toward the window with one slim hand. "You signaled me." Then she tilted her head to study him. "Though I am very curious how you knew... " She trailed off, almost as if her attention had suddenly been taken up by something else. But after a moment, she came to herself and her blue eyes focused on him once again.

"Have you learned anything else about my friend?"

Quickly, Mulder ran through his options. He had no idea who this woman was or what she wanted, other than to find this friend. But he was sorely tempted to help her no matter, for several reasons. The first was simply that he was curious, and by helping her he stood a good chance of learning more about what was really going on. The second was that she had put a pretty good twist in the Cancer Man's undies already, which earned her some consideration from him.

"Maybe." He tucked his gun into the back of his pants. "I'm not sure it will do you any good, but I can tell you that the interest in your friend goes pretty high up the ladder."

One white eyebrow arched as she listened. She was silent for several moments, but Mulder wasn't completely certain if she were thinking or just... blank. Her eyes were slightly glazed, her gaze unfocused. But then her expression sharpened and he couldn't deny that a considerable intelligence lurked inside that rather lovely head.

"Could you take me to one of these higher people? Someone who would know where she is?"

Mulder let out a breath. "Not really. The man you want isn't someone I can find." He flashed her a wry smile. "He has a habit of showing up whenever I get too close to something important."

She nodded. "I understand. I would not ask you to risk yourself."

Mulder swallowed a chuckle. She'd sunk the hook deep with that one. And with all the finesse of a true professional. He crossed his arms.

"If I'm going to help you, I'm going to have to know a little more about you. And your friends."

"Agreed—" Her head jerked up, as if she had suddenly seen something beyond the confines of the room. Then she turned toward the door. "I must go."

"Wait! How will I find you?"

Her hand on the doorknob, Ororo turned to look at him over her shoulder. "Just choose a place. We will find you." And with that she was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Dana stood a little to the side, watching Mulder and quietly and trying to disguise her frustration. She was seriously beginning to doubt the wisdom or usefulness of this particular wild goose chase. Especially when it seemed to be going absolutely nowhere.

Mulder was flipping through the reports he'd gathered, occasionally scribbling something down on a pad beside him. After a moment, he realized Dana was there and looked up.

"Find anything?"

Dana crossed her arms. "Two of the ambulances reported missing within the time period we're interested in remain unaccounted for."

"Where were they taken from?"

Dana sighed. She could already tell it was going to be one of those days. "Amber Lakes, Michigan and Reno, Nevada." Mulder's head snapped up at that last.

"Come on, Mulder. They didn't take her to Area 51."

"How do you know?"

Dana chewed her lip, counseling herself to patience. In her opinion, Area 51 was a modern myth. "Why would they steal an ambulance in Nevada and then drive all the way to Iowa to pick her up? You can barely make the drive in the time between when she was found and when the NSA took her, anyway." She moved over to lean against the corner of his desk. "It's far more likely that they used one of these closer ones." She pointed to his list. "_If_ they used a stolen ambulance at all. They might have repainted one of their own vehicles."

Mulder grinned. "Why Scully, how paranoid of you." Dana threw him a dirty look.

Mulder stood, taking his jacket from the back of his chair and putting it on. "C'mon, let's get some lunch."

#-#-#-#

Mulder's idea of lunch turned out to be a chilidog from the stand that usually occupied the street corner just opposite the FBI building. They took their food and walked toward a tiny park that was surprisingly empty for the midday hour.

"Mulder, what are we doing?"

"Hopefully, going on a lunch date." His smile was guileless. Dana had one very short moment of full-blown panic before she decided that he simply could _not_ be implying what he sounded like he was implying. Then that, of course, left the question of what he really did mean. She let out the last of her tension in a sigh, and resigned herself to following Mulder off into the unknown once again.

They wandered up to a typical, well-worn picnic table and Mulder sat down. Dana settled across from him and started into her dog with gusto. She was hungry.

Mulder stared at the mound of relish and onions. "Y'know, I never imagined you as the type to like chilidogs with the works," he said.

Dana grinned at him through a mouthful. "Nectar of the gods." He chuckled.

"Agent Mulder?" Dana started at the soft voice directly behind her, and was gratified to see that Mulder was startled, too. She turned to find Ororo Munroe watching them with keen interest. She nodded at Dana. "Agent Scully."

"Ms. Munroe." Mulder stood to greet her. "Would you like to have a seat?"

Ororo nodded and seated herself next to Dana. "I am sorry I left your apartment so abruptly last night," she began, and Dana threw Mulder an accusing look. He had somehow managed to forget that little detail when she'd asked him how his evening had gone. "But it would not have been wise to distract your watchers any longer or they might have become suspicious."

"My watchers?" Mulder leaned his elbows on the table, lunch forgotten.

One slim eyebrow twitched. "You were unaware?"

He shrugged. "I guess I should have expected it. Are we free to talk here?"

She paused, then nodded. "Yes. For the moment, at least."

"Then can I ask a few questions?"

Ororo smiled, and her regal demeanor returned in force. "Of course, though I doubt it would do anything but waste precious time."

Dana saw anger flash in Mulder's eyes. "The last time we spoke, you said that you would tell me more about yourself."

Ororo nodded. "I did. And I will. But I cannot afford to tell you very much."

"Why not?" Dana asked.

Ororo turned towards her, and Dana was impressed by the calm determination in her eyes. "Because your government has... powerful allies. If they were ever to learn too much about us, they would not stop until they had found us. I will not put my people at such risk."

"What kind of allies?" Mulder asked with such conversationality that Dana knew he was actually foaming at the mouth in excitement. It made him a horrible card player. He got so unreadable you knew he had to have a fantastic hand.

Ororo shook her head. "I do not know the details."

"I don't believe you."

Ororo's eyes widened in surprise at his blunt response, but she responded calmly, "There are enough people who know a little bit that my companions and I have been able to catch a glimpse of the truth. Perhaps we are wrong. But I will not risk lives on that possibility."

Dana filed that "companions" away for later consideration. They had seen only one companion so far.

Silence enveloped them for a moment. Dana found herself developing a modicum of respect for Ororo, though she was still a long way from either trusting or believing her.

"Tell us about your friend," Dana suggested. "I examined her myself. She appeared to be... invulnerable, for lack of a better term."

"And why did the people that touched her skin collapse?" added Mulder.

Ororo looked between them, considering. Then she seemed to consent to the requests. "Rogue is... special. She has a mutated chromosome that causes these effects."

"A mutant?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"She was born that way, Agent Mulder," Ororo said patiently.

"But how was her genetic structure changed?" Dana could no longer hold back her curiosity. Her brief glimpse of a water-breathing humanoid and the other strange variations she'd seen since joining the X-Files had made the topic of human mutation into, in her opinion, the real reason to keep the files open. "Is it a controlled mutation?"

"I do not know the origin of the X-factor, Agent Scully. And no, it is not controlled."

"The 'X-factor'?" Dana glanced at Mulder. "Why does everything weird have to have an 'X' in it?"

"Please!" Ororo was beginning to sound annoyed. "I will have to leave soon. I came to ask you more about this man you said would know where Rogue is." She watched Mulder as she spoke.

Mulder nodded. "Cancer Man. But I told you that I don't know how to find him. He finds me."

"Can you give him reason to come looking for you?"

Mulder considered the question and Dana's stomach sank. He was going to do something foolish and probably dangerous, as well. She would never admit it to him, but the Cancer Man scared her.

"I might." He clasped his hands together on the table. "But how will that help? I can't arrange a meeting or anything."

Ororo smiled grimly. "All I ask is that you lead us to him, Agent Mulder."

#-#-#-#

Fox Mulder shivered in the bitter cold of the parking garage and wrapped his coat more tightly around himself. He had called Scully from the plane, to give her the good news. It had taken some digging—only slightly illegal digging—and another trip to Paine, Iowa, but he had actually come up with a solid lead on Rogue's whereabouts. And now he fumbled with his car keys, trying to delay as long as possible in the hopes that a certain person would choose that moment to act. Mulder wasn't certain why, but he believed Ororo when she assured him that she and her friends would be able to keep up with him. Though he hadn't yet seen anyone, and it had been two days since they'd talked.

Mulder finally unlocked the door and swung it open, tossing a manila envelope with its valuable contents onto the front passenger seat. He turned to get in, and found himself facing the Cancer Man across the roof of the neighboring car.

"What do you want?" Mulder demanded, trying to put as much loathing into his voice as he could. A little attitude would hopefully cover his sudden excitement.

In answer, the Cancer Man bent his head to light the cigarette in his mouth.

A pair of finger snatched the cigarette away. "Tsk tsk, miseur. Dese are very bad for you." The man, who Mulder could only assume had come from under one of the cars, turned the cigarette around and put it in his own mouth. The tip glowed orange, reflected in a pair of jet black Ray Bans. Cancer Man only stared at him, taken aback for the first time in Mulder's memory.

"Who are you?" Cancer Man demanded when the other didn't move. He backed up a step as if intimidated, but that didn't seem right. Mulder had never known the man to act afraid of anything. He took another step, and Mulder suddenly understood. He began to shout a warning as Cancer Man reached into his coat, but the red-haired man had noticed. As Cancer Man drew a small black pistol, the other man's hand swept across in a blocking motion that struck the Cancer Man's arm just below the wrist. The shot was deflected toward the ceiling, and the loud explosion in the underground garage left Mulder's ears ringing. With the other hand, the man landed a blow to the Cancer Man's solar plexus. He took the gun away as the older man folded up, coughing. It was quick, neat, and very efficient.

Mulder closed his car door and hurried around the neighboring car to where the man stood holding the Cancer Man in what Mulder knew from experience was a rather painful arm lock. The purple-haired woman he had seen with Ororo walked up at about the same time, confirming what Mulder already suspected. This man was also one of Ororo's "friends".

The Cancer Man stared at Mulder, a murderous rage boiling in his eyes. "Who are these people, Agent Mulder?" Cancer Man demanded.

Mulder shrugged. "We haven't been introduced."

Cancer Man's face became a mask. He stared at the purple-haired woman who stared back with flat disinterest.

"You wan' get on wit it, cherie?" the man asked the woman. Mulder identified his accent as Cajun, which added to his curiosity. The French Quarter of New Orleans wasn't a very big place to begin with, and was shrinking steadily due to the influx of the newer city around it. Real, homegrown Cajuns were hard to come by these days.

The purple-haired woman glanced at her partner, her expression one of faint disgust. "I only needed to see him." She turned and began to walk away.

"An' jus' what, exactly, am I s'posed t' do wit him?" the man called after her.

The woman's pace didn't change. "Break his legs and throw him into the nearest sewer," the answer floated back. Then she stepped into the shadows beyond the exit ramp and was gone.

Mulder glanced in surprise at the man. Who _were_ these people? Even Cancer Man's expression had flickered at her suggestion, and Mulder fancied that he had seen a flash of fear.

The man glanced at the Cancer Man still caught in his grip. "Well, miseur, since 'Ro'd be upset if I did dat..." He smiled and loosened his grip. "I guess it's y' lucky day." He released Cancer Man completely and stepped back.

"You're just going to let him go?" Mulder asked.

"F' now." To his surprise, the man turned the gun he still held around and offered it back to Cancer Man, butt first. Mulder was fairly sure it was still loaded. So was the Cancer Man, to judge by his expression. He accepted the gun like it might suddenly turn into a viper in his hand, and then slowly put it in his jacket pocket. He seemed to regain his composure and his confidence with the motion.

"You have no idea what you're tangling with here, boy," he said. Mulder could hear the threat clearly, and was glad that it wasn't directed at him this time.

The other man smiled wryly. "I don' care, neither."

Cancer Man blinked at him, as if surprised to find someone that wasn't intimidated by him. Then he turned slowly and made his way toward the elevators. He did not look back.

The man standing beside Mulder turned and handed him a piece of paper. "Here."

"What's this?" Mulder looked at the paper and saw an unfamiliar address written in flowing cursive letters that he would bet had to be Ororo's.

"Don' go home, Agent Mulder," the man said. "Meet us dere in twenty minutes."

"Why? What's going on?"

"We goin' t' get Rogue, o' course," he answered. Then he turned and walked away, passing quickly between the cars until the shadows had swallowed him as well. Mulder could only stare after him. He had the strangest feeling that these people were part of an even bigger mystery than the one Mulder had devoted himself to.

"The truth is out there," he muttered to himself, and went to his car.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Mulder pulled up to the curb at the address he'd been given exactly eighteen minutes after the man who'd given it to him had left. The address was a non-descript brownstone midway down a block of like buildings. The hour was not particularly late, so many of the windows were lit. As Mulder killed his engine, a couple walking their dog passed him without a glance.

Mulder studied the building for a moment from the sidewalk. A short flight of stairs led up to the door, which was decorated by a cheerful floral wreath. It wasn't a place Mulder knew, and it certainly didn't seem like the hidden base of operations for his mysterious new acquaintances. It was much too... homey. Then a low voice hissed his name, and he turned to see Scully gesturing to him from the shadows beside the stairs.

He went to her, and discovered Ororo and the purple-haired woman whose name he still didn't know waiting there with her.

"Fancy meeting you here," he told Scully with a smile and nodded to the other two. Ororo returned a slim smile. The other woman ignored him. She was turned slightly away from the others, watching the darkness.

"So now what?" Mulder directed the question to Ororo. She was obviously the leader of this little group, and the man he'd met in the parking garage had pretty much confirmed it.

Ororo, too, was watching the darkness beyond Mulder. "We're waiting for Remy," she said. Before Mulder could ask, a figure appeared from the shadows and sauntered toward them, hands in pockets. Mulder recognized him immediately as the man from the parking garage. He was surprised how comforting it was to have a name to attach to him. Perhaps because he'd taken Cancer Man with such flagrant ease. Mulder himself was more than a match for Cancer Man in physical terms, but this Remy oozed an arrogance that was somehow unnerving.

The man walked up to them. "We clear, Stormy."

Ororo's glance at him was a strange mixture of affection and annoyance. It was the most personal emotion Mulder had yet seen from her. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes." The purple-haired woman finally turned toward them. Even so, Mulder had the feeling that she was still only partly there.

"Very well." Ororo looked toward Mulder and Scully. "I cannot ask you to accompany us beyond this point. You have already put yourselves at considerable risk to help us, and for this we are grateful." Mulder and Scully exchanged glances. If they really thought they were going to leave the FBI agents behind, Mulder thought, they were in for a surprise.

"However," Ororo continued, to all appearances oblivious to his thoughts, "we would appreciate your help. You know the working of your government better than most."

Mulder could hardly suppress the excitement that set his nerves to jangling. "When do we leave?"

Ororo's gaze was clear through the tendrils of hair that a sudden breeze blew across her face. "Now."

Remy pulled his hands out of his pockets. "Unfortunately, y' both gon' have t' take a nap while we travel."

Mulder spun to face him, instincts screaming, but the man hadn't moved other than that. There was nothing particularly threatening in his stance, yet Mulder was certain that they were about to be attacked. He blinked in confusion as brain and instincts collided.

He had only begun to open his mouth to ask what Remy had meant by that strange statement when a giant hand seemed to reach straight into his brain and squeezed. The world wavered, colors running, and then went black. Mulder was aware of himself falling, then being caught and lowered gently to the ground.

As if from a distance, he heard a female voice saying, "He is resisting me. He's very sensitive. I don't think I can put him all the way down without hurting him." But the words didn't make much sense. Mulder felt like he was floating, awash in alternating currents of warm and cold. He wondered where Dana was and if she was all right, but he couldn't seem to muster more than an idle curiosity.

"Do what you must," a different voice said.

Barely, he felt the touch of light fingers in his hair. "I'm sorry, Agent Mulder," the first voice said, "but this is going to hurt."

A spike of pain drove through him, blindingly intense. It was purple, he thought in surprise. Then everything went blank.

#-#-#-#

Dana woke violently as the last moments of her consciousness returned to her. Adrenaline filled her veins and she sat up, instinctively raising an arm to deflect the blow that had sent her into darkness. A hand reached out to steady her, and she slapped it away with a tiny cry of alarm. Still seated, she turned toward the source. Her fingers lit on the butt of her gun at the same time that she registered the man who crouched a few feet from her, expression unreadable through his sunglasses.

"Easy, petite." He made a placating gesture, but kept his hands well away from her.

Beside her, Mulder was stretched out on his back. He moaned, then began trying to roll over. Sudden fury swept through Dana, mixed with terror. She had been abducted once-- taken somewhere against her will. Hurt. Violated. Knowing that it had happened again filled her with a desperate desire to get as far away from these people as possible. And since they had left her the opportunity, she was determined to take it.

She drew her gun and pointed it at the man. The muzzle was less than six inches from the end of his nose, but he didn't even flinch. "Don't move."

The corners of his mouth twitched upward. "Wouldn' dream of it." Behind him, the two women turned to look. Ororo was seated on the ground, knees drawn up. She had been resting her forehead on her knees, but now raised her head. To Dana she looked suddenly exhausted, and Dana had to wonder why. The other two seemed fine.

The purple-haired woman was standing next to Ororo. She gave Ororo a questioning glance, as if seeking permission to interfere. Ororo shook her head.

"We have done you no harm, Agent Scully," Ororo said, and her voice, too, betrayed her weariness.

Scully glanced beyond the man for a moment. "You call hitting me over the back of the head and carting me off to wherever this is 'no harm'?" she demanded.

Mulder slowly sat up, cradling his head. Dana touched his arm. "Are you all right?" she asked without taking her eyes off of the three.

"Except for the hangover." He looked up, taking in the scene. His gaze flicked between the three women, then came to rest on Remy. "You hit me." He laid a hand on the back of his neck, probing carefully.

Remy grinned, an expression Dana was quickly coming to dislike. "Actually, Betsy hit ya. But don' worry. Y' won' even have a bruise, neh?"

Dana reached behind her own head, exploring with her fingers. To her surprise, she could find no evidence of trauma. True, her head hurt, but the back of her skull and neck, where she felt like she'd been hit, was unharmed. No contusion or swelling. No blood. Nothing.

"Where are we?" Mulder asked mildly, and Dana was forced to suppress a sigh. As usual, Mulder skimmed over the potential for danger in the situation. Dana hadn't yet decided if he simply didn't realize how closely he often skirted disaster, or if he just didn't care. Instinct told her that he didn't care. He was willing to sacrifice his life for the truth he was looking for. However, he wasn't stupid, and he didn't seem to have any intention of dying for anything less that his elusive "truth". She clung to that thought as she lowered her gun. It was obvious that Mulder was going to stay with these people.

"Just outside Pensacola," Remy answered the question Dana had nearly forgotten.

"Florida?"

He nodded.

"Why Florida?" Mulder struggled to his feet. Remy did not offer to help, and rose fluidly to face him.

"See dat over dere?" Dana followed his gesture as she, too, got to her feet. They were in a wooded area near a large field. The temperature was unseasonably warm for D.C., and the trees and general humidity made a strong case that they were, indeed, in Florida or some similar southern coastal area. Dana checked her watch. It was nearly two a.m., just over three hours since she and Mulder had met these people in the Arlington suburbs. If what Remy claimed was true, they'd traveled nearly a thousand miles in that time. Certainly possible with a private jet, but that left her wondering more than ever about their strange new acquaintances.

Through the trees, Dana could see a set of lights that illuminated a large compound in the middle of the field. She could see nothing but the roof of the single-story building above an apparently concrete wall that surrounded the entire facility. Coils of concertina wire glittered at the top of the wall. An unmarked road led up to a gate house, behind which was a gate of iron bars. The gate was ugly and looked to Dana to be very functional. That was the only entrance she could see.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Turing-Rocheland Medical Research Facility," Remy answered.

Dana glanced at him. "Looks more like a prison."

Something hardened in his expression. "'Spect it is, chere."

"Is that where you think your friend is?" Mulder had been studying the building, but now turned to look at Remy.

"Oui."

"But how do you know?" Dana could guess at his confusion. Only a few days ago, they had seemed to have no clues whatsoever as to the woman's whereabouts.

The purple-haired woman-- Betsy-- stepped forward. "You provided us with reliable sources, Agent Mulder. She is there."

As if that were a cue, Ororo rose to her feet and the three began to work their way silently through the woods toward the back side of the compound. They had to be professionals, Dana thought, to move so quickly with so little noise. She and Mulder would be hard pressed to keep up with them.

"Any idea what that was about?" Mulder asked her in an undertone as they followed. Dana shook her head.

He continued, "The only 'resource' I can think of is the Cancer Man, but all she did was walk up and look at him." He shook his head. "It's like she read his mind."

Dana felt a sudden surge of annoyance. "Don't start, Mulder."

"Start what?" he asked innocently.

"These people are weird enough without you trying to make them into telepaths. There is no scientific evidence that true mind-reading is possible."

The smile Mulder gave her was positively smug.

"What?"

"I never suggested that she might be a telepath, Scully. But now that you mention it... " He trailed off at her glare, but his smile didn't change.

#-#-#-#

They circled the facility until they ran out of trees, but that put them on the side opposite the gate. The land sloped down slightly onto a plain of grass easily tall enough to hide them. Small hummocks of earth and dried grass were interspersed with pools of stagnant water that smelled of rot, even from a distance.

"See what I missed by not joining the Boy Scouts," Mulder commented, trying not to breathe too deeply.

Remy threw him an amused look as he prepared to step down into the morass. "Jus' don' go shootin' de gators, non? Y' wake up de whole neighborhood."

"Gators?" Scully queried from behind Mulder.

"I'm sure there won't be any as large as the last one we ran into," he answered her.

"Mulder, the last alligator we ran into ate my dog." She was beginning to sound angry. Not that he blamed her. She'd been fond of the dog.

Ororo threw them a startled look, but motioned for them to follow as she stepped down into the muck after Betsy.

They didn't run into any reptiles of any size, and approached the wall with relative ease. Mulder stared up at the twelve foot tall expanse of concrete and wondered how in the world they were going to get over it. He hadn't seen any evidence of rope or grappling hooks or any other climbing devices.

"Remy?" Ororo asked the man who was staring up at the wall, hands on hips. "Can you make it?"

He glanced over at her, then scuffed the toe of his boot in the dried grass that topped the little mound on which he stood. "Rotten footing, chere. But, yeah, I c'n do it."

_Do what?_ Mulder wanted to ask, but figured that he'd probably find out if he waited. To his surprise, Remy crouched down, almost like a runner getting set at the starting blocks. But then he exploded off the ground, leaping straight into the air. He cleared the top of the wall by more than a foot, and landed with all the aplomb of a cat in the midst of the concertina wire. Apparently unconcerned, he pulled a pair of wire cutters from an inside jacket pocket, and began cutting the wire, carefully winding it around himself and opening a space at the top of the wall.

"How...?" Scully breathed behind him, and Mulder silently echoed her. What he had just seen could only be accomplished by a very few of the world's best acrobats.

Remy finished with the wire, then turned and leaned down, extending a hand. Betsy stepped up to the wall and made the same kind of crouching leap. Very close to the top of the wall, she caught his hand and with a little boost settled on top. Just as quickly, she disappeared over the other side.

"Agents." Ororo gestured toward the wall. Mulder looked at her then up at Remy.

"Right."

It wasn't as far as it seemed. He leapt up and caught Remy's hand, and, with his assistance, walked up the wall. Betsy waited for him on the other side, all but invisible in the shadows. After a few moments, Scully joined them, then Ororo, and finally Remy. They were facing a well-lit lawn that led to the building itself. Mulder could see the security cameras mounted at the corners of the building. There were two at each corner, facing away from each other at an angle. Mulder could hear the mechanical hum of the servos as they swept the grounds independently. The lighting did not reach quite to the wall, giving them a small corridor of safety, but Mulder was certain they would be spotted the moment they stepped out of the darkness.

With a nod to Ororo, Betsy stepped further back into the shadows and simply... disappeared?

"Where did she go?" he hissed.

Ororo glanced at him. "To disable the cameras," she answered. They waited in silence for several minutes until an unmistakable form appeared on the roof of the building. It glided over to the cameras, whose sweeps did not include the building itself. After a moment, one camera stilled, then the other. Mulder noted that they were stopped facing almost directly away from each other, leaving a wide swath of the lawn unobserved.

Briefly, Mulder wondered if he should even bother asking _how_ the woman had gotten to the roof. Especially so fast. Every time he turned around, these people did some subtly amazing thing. It was leading him to the only possible conclusion.

"Are all of you mutants?" he asked Ororo.

She whipped around to stare at him, blue eyes wide, and Mulder knew he was right. "You are." He wagged a finger between her and Remy. "But you're not all the same."

To his chagrin, Remy began to chuckle quietly. "Got y' dere, Stormy," he told Ororo.

"Do not call me that," she told him, sounding thoroughly annoyed. She turned to Mulder and Scully. "Let us go before someone comes to check on the cameras." She stepped out into the light and strode purposefully across the grass.

Mulder glanced at Remy, who shrugged. "Honestly, mon ami, de less y' know 'bout us, de safer we all gon' be." He turned and followed Ororo.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Twenty minutes later, they were well inside the complex, and Mulder had begun to develop a healthy respect for Remy. Mutant or not-- whatever _that_ might mean—he could break locks with the best of them. Mulder had taken an immediate dislike to the man originally, perhaps because he reminded him a little too much of Krycek... just not quite so slimy. And he was doubly curious about which government had given him his training. Some of what Mulder had seen him use simply wasn't available any other way.

Betsy held up a hand, and they all froze. She and Remy were crouched on opposite sides of the corridor where it opened into another hallway. They had been working as a team this way since they'd entered the building. They had only run into one person so far, but the man had never seen what hit him. He had been bound, gagged, and quietly stuffed into a janitor's closet in a remarkably short time.

Betsy jerked her head towards the wall behind her, indicating that Remy was to go around the corner in that direction. He did and she followed, and their entire party moved into the new hall. Mulder glanced behind them only to see another blank corridor stretching out behind them. Occasional doors broke the sterile monotony, but none were marked with anything more than a number on a small black nameplate beside the door.

Betsy seemed to know where she was going. She finally opened a door into what appeared to be a small observation room for a surgery. The room was darkened, making the brightly lit surgery seem even whiter. A woman lay on the table at the center of the operating room. Mulder had never seen her in person, but knew who she had to be.

Two steps in front of him, Remy had gone pale.

"Dear Goddess..." whispered Ororo.

The woman lay in the midst of a frightening tangle of tubes, wires and machinery. She was naked, covered only by a clear plastic sheet. At several points, the sheet appeared to be streaked on the inside with blood. The steady beeping of a heart monitor was the only sign Mulder could see that she was even alive.

Scully was the first to the door leading into the surgery. Her doctor's instincts were something that Mulder had come to depend on. She often tempered his intensity with compassion, a trait he often felt he was sorely lacking in.

Dana went immediately to the woman's head, with Remy right on her heels. Before anyone could remind her, Dana grabbed a set of sterile gloves from the box on the counter behind her and slid them on. She checked the woman's pupils, then her pulse.

"She's stable, at least." She turned her attention to the two bloody bandages that had caused the streaks on the sheet. One was on her arm, at the point where an IV was inserted. The other, larger, was just under her ribcage.

Remy caught her wrist as she reached for the IV. "You a doctor, non?" he demanded harshly.

"Yes," Dana answered, and he released her. Mulder could read the sick fear on his face, and had no trouble guessing who this Rogue was to him.

"Agent Mulder, Elizabeth," said Ororo, "will you please watch the door?" Betsy nodded and Mulder followed her. He stayed at the door to the operating room while she went out into the observation area. Ororo turned back to the table and began undoing the metal brackets that held Rogue's wrists and ankles.

Dana pulled back the bandage around the IV to reveal a hole approximately the size of a pencil. She carefully turned Rogue's arm to reveal that the puncture wound did, in fact, go all the way through the arm. She looked up at Remy.

"I thought she was invulnerable."

The muscles of his jaw stood out in clear relief as he answered, "Dis done wit a laser. Crank it up high 'nough an' it even go t'rough her skin."

Dana turned back to her study of the wound. The IV was inserted into an open end of a vein that had been sheared by the laser. Much of the puncture had been cauterized, but it continued to ooze blood. It looked to her as though they had used too high a setting at first, drilling entirely through the arm and cauterizing the veins they wanted to access. Successive passes at lower settings had allowed them to cut the tissue with the precision of a scalpel. She looked up at the bag hanging from the IV stand. Her expression of shock was apparent to Mulder from across the room.

"They're feeding her enough sedative to kill an elephant! I'm not even sure how she can still be alive--"

"It is a reasonable dosage for Rogue." Ororo trailed her gloved fingers through a layer of grayish soot that decorated the unconscious woman's hip and thigh. She rubbed her fingertips together thoughtfully and looked to Remy. "Rocket launcher," was all she said. Mulder wondered if he really wanted to know if she was implying what he thought she was.

Remy stroked the long red hair that tumbled over the edge of the table. "Almost got away, eh chere?" he murmured to her.

Dana carefully extracted the IV and taped a new bandage into place. "Do you know how long it will take her to recover from the sedative?" she asked to the room in general. She was already moving around the table to look at the other wound.

"Not long," Ororo answered.

Dana peeled back the other bandage. She had noted the continuous trail of blood that leaked from the edge of the bandage and ran down her ribs to soak into the padding beneath. The wound was not terribly large-- a straight cut approximately three inches long. She probed the edges lightly and was rewarded with a fresh welling of blood, but it answered her question. The cut was deep, but did not go through her. She gathered fresh supplied from the cabinet and began rebandaging the wound.

"They were doing some kind of exploratory surgery, it looks like. But they couldn't pierce her tissues on a fine enough scale to take stitches, so they've left the wounds open."

"How much blood has she lost?" Ororo asked as Dana taped the last edge into place.

Dana shrugged. "I can't say. Her pulse is fairly strong, though, so she isn't in immediate danger."

"Give me y' coat." Remy demanded suddenly, and Mulder's attention snapped from the two women to the man who approached him.

"Sure." He surrendered his suit jacket without further comment.

Remy returned to the table and gently wrapped Rogue in the jacket. He picked her up easily, cradling her like a child. Ororo went to the cabinet and began searching through it. After a moment, she grabbed a familiar plastic bottle. Then, to Mulder's surprise, the unscrewed the top and upended the bottle over the blood-stained pad on which Rogue had been lying. Unconsciously tidy, she tossed the empty bottle into the trash can and walked to the door. Remy followed her.

Mulder let them pass as he waited for Dana. "What was that bit with the alcohol?" he asked when she reached him.

Dana pulled off her gloves and stuffed them into her pocket. "She was contaminating the blood." Her eyes were wary. "They don't want to leave any evidence behind."

#-#-#-#

Dana was exactly four steps into the hallway when alarms began to wail all around them. She drew her weapon and saw Mulder mimic the action. None of the other three appeared to be armed, though she was encouraged to see them shift positions into a defensive formation.

Betsy waved them along. "The lab is this way." She took off down the hall at a lope. They all followed, with Dana and Mulder bringing up the rear. At each intersection, Betsy paused as if listening. Then she would choose a direction and go on. Finally, she stopped and shook her head. "No good. They've cut us off."

"Now what?" Remy asked Ororo.

"Do we have any options?" She turned the question to Betsy.

"I say we blow a hole t'rough de ceiling and get out o' here. We _gone_, Stormy. Who cares what dey see?"

Ororo shook her head vehemently. "No! We cannot risk exposure here. _They_ are here." Whatever her words implied, it was enough to silence him.

"Who are _they_?" Mulder wanted to know. Ororo only shook her head and turned back to Remy.

"Give Rogue to me," she said. Remy gave her a questioning look.

"You will need to have your hands free. If we can force them to confront us in these halls, you and Elizabeth should be able to subdue them." Ororo glanced at the FBI agents. "And they can provide some covering fire."

Dana looked to Mulder for his reaction, but only received a shrug. Remy transferred the unconscious woman to Ororo and then pulled a metal cylinder from his jacket pocket. To her surprise, it telescoped into a five-plus foot staff that he spun once, seeking the proper balance. Apparently satisfied, he joined Betsy and the two of them proceeded down the hall.

"You do realize we're probably facing some kind of military assault team, right?" Mulder asked Ororo in an undertone.

"Of course." Her stride never faltered.

"And you don't think those two are... poorly equipped to go up against assault rifles?"

"No, Agent Mulder."

Mulder surrendered in frustration. Dana sympathized, but really didn't know what to say or even feel. Events seemed to be careening out of control once again, sweeping the both of them up and tossing them who-knows-where. So far, they had escaped alive from every situation that Dana was certain would be their deaths, but she had no confidence that the trend would continue. In plain English, she was scared, and she didn't particularly share Ororo's belief that the two people who walked ahead of them would be sufficient protection.

The theory got its test only a minute later when five men in black fatigues, kevlar and rifles rounded the corner ahead of them. They were well trained, and reacted immediately. The front two dropped to one knee, taking aim, the other three took up positions behind them and raised their weapons as well. Betsy and Remy did what Dana considered to be the stupidest thing she'd ever seen, and dove straight for them.

Remy rolled to his feet right in front of one of the kneeling soldiers. He used his staff to deflect the rifle, which fired uselessly into the wall and struck the man in the face with the heel of his hand. As the man recoiled, Remy made a throwing motion toward the soldier standing behind the first. He, too, staggered and Dana saw a spray of blood. Beside Remy, Betsy performed a similar maneuver, though she used her feet and fists in a flurry that Dana could not follow. At the same time, Mulder fired several shots toward the ceiling, making the soldiers duck and giving Remy the opportunity to knock the last soldier's gun out of his hands. He swung the staff around again, bringing it down with enough force on the soldier's helmet that he collapsed.

Dana blinked in surprise at the pile of bodies. The fight had lasted less than ten seconds. She, Mulder and Ororo approached and looked down at the soldiers. Four appeared to be alive, but one had a knife lodged beneath his chin. Blood oozed around the hilt.

Ororo pinned Remy an accusing stare. "That man is dead."

He only shrugged. "We not playin' games in de Danger Room, chere." He brushed by her and continued down the corridor. Betsy followed him. A brief expression of sadness crossed Ororo's features as she watched the two, but then she shook herself and stepped past the dead soldier.

_Danger Room?_ Mulder mouthed at Dana as he passed, following Ororo, but she could only shrug helplessly. She had quit trying to understand. Surviving would be enough for her.

#-#-#-#

Betsy leaned against the wall outside another unremarkable door. "There are four technicians inside," she told Ororo. She did not seem the least out of breath, despite the reckless speed at which they had been running through the halls. Ororo nodded.

"Maybe we should take the point on this one," Mulder suggested. He had never been one to just follow along. And beside that, their guns and badges would probably be enough to confuse the scientists and allow them to take control of the room without violence.

Ororo considered for a moment, then nodded her agreement. Mulder and Scully flanked the door, with Mulder providing the silent count. They went through in a practiced rush, taking the room's occupants completely by surprise. Mulder ordered them away from their stations, corraling them against a side wall, while the others spread out into the laboratory. He kept his weapon trained on the four startled men, but they didn't seem inclined to resist.

With Scully's help, Remy found the proper blood and tissue samples, which were quickly disposed of. Betsy rifled through the tall racks of medical files, but Mulder couldn't tell how successful she was.

They were in the last stages of preparing to leave when the door to the lab slammed open. Mulder whirled and found himself staring down his sights at a young Marine with a rifle that was aimed directly at him. Behind the Marine stood the Cancer Man. Mulder felt as if time had frozen for a moment as he and Cancer Man stared at each other. But then motion returned and soldiers poured into the lab, quickly surrounding them.

"Surrender your weapons, Agents," Cancer Man said as he stepped into the room.

Mulder stared at the ring of high-capacity rifles, and then back to the Cancer Man. It galled, but he slowly raised the muzzle of his pistol and let one of the soldiers take the gun from him. Nearby, another soldier did the same to Scully. Remy had placed himself between Ororo, who still held Rogue, and the Marines as much as he was able. He held his staff at the ready, though what he thought he was going to do with it, Mulder couldn't guess. The soldiers didn't seem too concerned with trying to take it away from him.

Cancer Man circled behind the ring of soldiers until he could face Ororo directly, though she was half-eclipsed by Remy. The Cajun's position wavered as he tried to split his attention between Cancer Man and the Marine squad leader. Without warning, Cancer Man drew a slim pistol out of his pocket and fired twice at Ororo. One bullet ricoched off of the metal staff that Remy swung up in front of her. Mulder heard it rebound across the lab. The other struck Ororo in the thigh. She cried out in pain and collapsed, suddenly unable to support the weight of the woman in her arms.

"Just checking," said Cancer Man with a small smile.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Ororo stared at the Cancer Man, her expression one of absolute amazement. But then her blue eyes narrowed into angry slits. She released her hold on Rogue, who lay sprawled across her lap, and raised her hands slowly.

"That is quite enough." Bolts of pure blue-white light seemed to fly from her hands. Mulder was forced to shield his eyes as the light streaked around the room. It sizzled and hissed like some living thing, and Mulder watched the soldiers writhe and scream as the lightning wrapped around them, pierced them. Even Cancer Man had no defense against the white light that clawed at him. It had to be lightning, Mulder thought as the soldiers fell. He'd seen it before—a boy who could call lightning from the sky, be struck by it, and walk away unharmed. But this was a little different. That boy had not been able to control lightning, or to generate it.

The brilliant light cut out abruptly and Mulder tried to blink away the glare spots that danced before his eyes. He turned at the sound of Remy's chuckle.

"Now _dat's_ more like it." Behind him, Scully stared at the tall man, her expression dazed. She looked from him to Ororo, and then to the bodies scattered all around them. Then she went to the nearest soldier and squatted down, reaching for his neck.

"He is alive, Agent Scully," said Ororo calmly. Her perfect composure was just as unnerving as the Cajun's laughter.

"We better be movin'." Remy gestured to Mulder to help him as he knelt beside Ororo and carefully lifted Rogue out of her lap. Mulder hesitantly offered Ororo his arm. She smiled tightly, and allowed him to help her to her feet. She was surprisingly light as she leaned her weight against him.

"Elizabeth." Ororo glanced back at the other woman when she did not respond. "Elizabeth?" Betsy stood stiffly in something that would have resembled a parade rest in anyone with less unusual hair. Her head was turned slightly upward, and her eyes were empty.

Remy glanced at Ororo. "Got a bad feelin' 'bout dat." He transfered Rogue to a shoulder-carry and dipped his hand into his jacket. Mulder wasn't certain what to think when that hand re-emerged with a couple of playing cards.

Betsy seemed to snap out of her daze. "We have to get out of here. _Now!_" To Mulder, she sounded frightened. Without so much as a glance at the others, she darted to the door and slipped through it. Remy followed her at a trot, and Ororo urged Mulder to follow as well. With a glance at Dana, he did so. Dana only shrugged, then retrieved their weapons from the unconscious soldiers who held them before bringing up the rear of the odd procession.

They moved through the sterile halls at breakneck speed. Mulder found himself falling behind until Scully came up on the other side of Ororo and helped to support the injured woman. Mulder was actually somewhat amazed by how well she held up, considering the amount of blood that was soaking down the leg of her pants.

Betsy slid to an abrupt halt in front of them. "No good. Soldiers." She pointed in the direction they were headed.

"Den it's time f' a detour, neh?" Remy glanced at Ororo as he raised the hand that still held those playing cards. Ororo nodded.

"Move back," Ororo told Mulder. "Around the corner. That should be enough to shield us from the explosion."

"The explosion?" Scully asked as they backed away. The turn in the hall was just a few paces behind them. On the other side of the Cajun, Betsy, too, was moving away.

As they pulled Ororo back into the other hall, she answered, "Yes. Remy is something of an... explosives expert." The roar of a sizable blast punctuated her statement. Mulder moved forward to look around the corner. Remy stood in front of a jagged hole where the wall had once been. Through the gap, Mulder could see open ground and beyond it, the perimeter fence. Sirens wailed outside as loudly as in, and floodlights lit the area as brightly as the sun.

"Where, exactly, do you think he was hiding the C-4?" Mulder murmured to Dana. Remy was both tall and lean, and did not appear to favor baggy styles. Mulder was pretty certain he would have noticed that kind of bulge, even in his jacket. It would have taken a sizable chunk of plastique to blow that hole.

Mulder and Scully brought Ororo forward as the smoke began to clear. Remy ducked through the hole he'd made and they followed. Betsy must have been just behind them, for she almost seemed to materialize at Remy's elbow.

"Now where?" Remy demanded and Betsy pointed off to their right. They turned that direction and started across the open ground at a dead run. Ororo's breath came in ragged gasps, but she stayed on her feet and ran with the rest of them. Still, it was impossible to think that they wouldn't be seen. Mulder spotted the soldiers that were running the length of the rooftop behind them. They would soon be in a position to shoot, and they would have a clear field of fire.

"Soldiers! On the roof!" he shouted at the backs of the two in front of him. Betsy turned, allowing the three of them to pass her as she slowed.

"I've got them!" she told Mulder and waved him after Remy. Mulder had no idea what she might be able to do, but he wasn't going to argue. He'd already seen a handful of miracles from these people. But that didn't keep the spot between his shoulder blades from itching in anticipation of a bullet. He risked a quick glance back as he ran. Betsy stood with her hands to her temples, staring at the roof. Strangely, she reminded him of a butterfly standing there, though he couldn't say why. And there was no sign of the soldiers.

Remy had already reached their quarry by the time Betsy rejoined them. It was a civilian HumVee, parked at the edge of a small side lot. Remy made another one of those cat-like leaps into the back of the vehicle, and laid Rogue down gently. Then he dropped into the driver's seat and broke the steering column and ignition open with the speed and dexterity of an accomplished carjacker.

"This just keeps getting better," he heard Scully mutter as she slid into the passenger seat. Remy glanced at her, but if he said anything, Mulder didn't hear it. He was too busy helping Ororo up into the back seat. Betsy hopped up into the vehicle and helped from that side, and they managed to lift her in without too much more trauma to her injured leg. The engine roared to life as Mulder scrambled to get aboard. Remy peeled out at high speed, forcing Mulder to grab on to avoid being tossed out of the open-topped car.

"Over there! The gate!" Scully had to shout to be heard over the engine and the sudden staccato of gunfire that chased them. Remy swung the wheel in the direction she was pointing, and Mulder could see the thick steel beams of the front gate. It was closed solidly, with two military vehicles parked in front of it. Soldiers watched them approach from their covered positions behind the two trucks. Despite the reception waiting for them, Remy turned the HumVee in line with the gate and floored it.

"What are you doing?!" Scully yelled at him. In response, he grabbed her arm and dragged her toward him.

"Take the wheel!"

"What?!"

"Take the wheel!" He climbed out of the driver's seat. Wide-eyed, Scully slid over to take his place. When their reckless speed began to slow, he snapped, "Floor it, chere!" and she increased their pace. They were only about fifty yards from the closed gate.

"What are you going to do?" Mulder yelled from the back. Remy ignored him. He was now standing up in the passenger seat, despite the bullets that were flying around them as the soldiers opened fire. He leaned down to talk to Scully.

"Whatever happens, don' stop." His voice was magnetic.

"Right," she answered tightly. Her red hair whipped about her face, but Mulder knew the grim expression beneath it. If Remy didn't have some magic means of opening that gate, they were going to slam right into it, full speed.

Then Remy reached into his coat and pulled something out. Something that glowed a lurid pink in his hand. He pulled back and threw a sidearm fastball towards the gate and the soldiers. Whatever it was in his hand streaked toward its target, separating into four separate, glowing objects. The two on the ends slammed into the two trucks, while the two in the middle passed between the trucks to strike the gate directly. The trucks exploded in fantastic fireballs that tossed the burning chunks of twisted metal away from the gate like toys. A moment later the gate exploded with the same fury.

Mulder ducked as they hit the wall of fire, bracing himself for an impact that never came. They barreled through the gateway, bouncing through the crater left by the explosion, and careened off along the road away from Turing-Rocheland. Mulder turned to look behind them, but he saw no signs of pursuit. All he could see was fire against the dark Southern night, and the burning skeleton of one of the trucks.

#-#-#-#

About ten minutes later, Dana Scully slowed the HumVee and pulled over to the side of the road. She leaned her head back against the headrest briefly and closed her eyes, thinking that her Academy driving instructor would be proud of her.

"We gon' have visitors?" Remy asked Betsy, who shook her head.

"They will not risk exposing themselves."

Behind Dana, Mulder leaned forward and squeezed her shoulder. "How are you doing?" he asked. He made no effort to mask the concern in his voice.

Dana threw him a wry smile, but didn't feel like trying to voice her answer. There were too many reactions and emotions tumbling around inside her to put into words. But Mulder seemed satisfied with her smile.

"What now?" he asked Remy.

"I should take a look at Ororo's leg," Dana added before Remy could answer. Ororo leaned against Betsy, eyes closed. Dana could see her breathing gently, but was certain she was unconscious. She had lost a lot of blood. "She needs to go to a hospital, though." Dana looked up at Remy, who seemed to have taken Ororo's place as leader. "There isn't much I can do for her here."

He nodded in understanding. "Do what y' can, chere. We got friends comin'."

"What kind of friends?" Mulder asked.

Remy turned to look at him. "You always ask dis many questions?"

Mulder grinned. "Yes." Remy simply rolled his eyes and got out of the car to help Dana and Betsy lift Ororo and carry her to a grassy patch beside the road. They laid her down and Dana was unsurprised when Betsy produced a knife from somewhere on her person and began to cut away the blood-soaked pant leg. Mulder stood behind them, watching. After a moment, Remy got up and went to get Rogue. He laid her down on the grass a short distance away. A glance told Dana that she, too, was losing blood, but there was less that Dana could do for her than for Ororo.

As Dana began to try to locate the bullet, she heard a low moan and turned her head to see Rogue's eyes flutter open. She blinked several times, then tried to sit up, falling back with a cry of pain.

"What in the world...?" It was hardly more than a whisper, in a thick Southern drawl.

"Easy, petite. Don' try t' move." Remy helped her to settle back on the grass, his expression almost sick with relief. Rogue turned her head, slowly focusing on him.

"Remy?" It seemed to take her a moment to recognize him. "What... happened?"

"Hush." He put a gloved finger to her lips. She batted his hand away.

"Where am ah?" Her voice was growing stronger, though Dana could clearly hear the slurring effect of the drugs she'd been given.

Remy snorted and rubbed the back of his hand, as if Rogue had slapped him hard enough to sting. He seemed to be hanging on to a deeply buried anger, and she wondered briefly what kind of relationship the two might have. Then she firmly told herself it was none of her business and went back to work on Ororo.

"Y' in Florida, chere." Remy's voice had lost its gentleness.

"What happened to Iowa?" Rogue craned her neck to look around, and spied Ororo. "Storm?" She was immediately concerned.

"Your friend is going to be all right," Mulder supplied helpfully and Rogue appeared to notice him for the first time.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Fox Mulder, and this is Dana Scully." He waved in Dana's direction. "We're with the FBI."

Rogue blinked at him in surprise. "FBI? I was dreamin' 'bout the FBI." Her voice trailed off as her eyes unfocused. She was very definitely still in the throes of the sedatives she'd been fed. "All those little gray geezers dressed in suits... Just like yours." She waggled her fingers at Mulder. "Kept crowdin' all around me. Ah tried ta run..." Her expression turned pleading as she looked back at Remy. "Ah did. But they were too strong... " She trailed off again as Remy shushed her.

Mulder knelt beside Rogue, his expression intense. "Rogue, what did these gray men look like?"

"Mulder!" Dana was appalled. He looked up in surprise at her sharp tone. "It's bad enough that it was our own government that did this," she continued heatedly. "Don't try to bring aliens into it."

Remy turned sharply to look at her, then over at Betsy. Dana followed his gaze, but could interpret nothing of the other woman's expression. Mulder, too, looked between them, drawing his own conclusions. Dana bit back her frustration. The real world was bad enough. Why did he always have to see something more in everything?

"_Are _there aliens involved in this?" Mulder asked the two.

Remy and Betsy traded glances as if conferring, and then Betsy cracked the first real smile Dana had seen. It was a rather predatory expression. "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," she told Mulder.

Dana ducked her head, trying to hide her smile, and heard Remy chuckle. Mulder's expression was absolutely priceless. But then Betsy sobered. "You will find the truth eventually, Agent Mulder," she said quietly. To Dana, it almost sounded like a prophecy and she felt a chill. Mulder, too, seemed to feel the weight of her statement because he didn't respond.

To cover her sudden discomfort, Dana turned back to her examination. The bullet was imbedded in the femur, and Dana suspected that the bone was fractured. She would need to see an X-ray to be sure, though. She set about using Ororo's remaining pant leg to bandage the wound.

"He's here." Betsy's sudden announcement made her look up and then around. She saw the man who appeared to have just stepped out of the trees and tried not to gape at him. An Aborigine? But that was certainly what he looked like. He was all of about five feet tall, with a graying beard and a solemn expression. He was dressed in a traditional loincloth, and held a bola in one hand. Dana glanced at Mulder, who shrugged. The Aborigine said nothing, but simply stood waiting.

"I take it this is the friend you were waiting for?" Mulder asked.

Remy nodded. "Oui." He crouched down and gathered Rogue up in his arms. She began to protest but quit as a sudden stab of pain stole her breath away. Betsy picked up Ororo's still form, and Dana was impressed by how easily she raised the larger woman.

The Aborigine turned and stepped back between the trees. Remy took a step to follow him, then hesitated. He turned back towards Mulder and Scully. "We owe y' bot' a debt-- More dan y' c'n guess." He looked between them. "If y' ever run into dat 'truth' an' y' need our help, jus' call. We'll be dere."

Mulder's puzzled expression mirrored Dana's own. "Call you how?"

"You will know." Betsy's expression was full of hidden meaning. Mulder opened his mouth to ask her what she meant, but she turned her back and walked after the Aborigine.

"Bon soir, mes amis," said Remy with a nod, then he, too, turned away. Dana and Mulder watched as he disappeared between the trees after the others. A few moments later, they heard the peculiar buzzing sound that Dana knew came from the Aborigine's bola. The sound abruptly cut out, and Dana and Mulder looked at each other.

"Do you think, if we went in there, we would stand a chance of finding them?" Mulder asked.

Dana stifled a snort. "No."

"Me neither."

Together, they walked toward the HumVee. Mulder climbed in behind the wheel and Dana was content to take the passenger seat. She laid her head back against the rest and closed her eyes. She felt Mulder put the car in gear and pull back onto the road.

"What do you think they really were?" Mulder asked after a few moments.

Dana Scully did not believe in Mulder's little gray men, or in ghost or werewolves, telepathy or magic. But did know that those people had been a little bit more than human. She didn't open her eyes.

"They were mutants, Mulder."


End file.
